Warrior Fae Trapped: A DDVN Book

by Breene, K. F.

  “Yes, please,” Charity said before Devon could speak up.

  “Afraid you’ll fall in lust if people can’t see you?” Rod chuckled as he moved away.

  “C’mere,” Devon said again. “I’ll be good. I just want your warmth. Our shared warmth.”

  Charity wanted the same thing. However strange she felt about taking their unspoken arrangement public, she knew she wouldn’t sleep tonight without Devon beside her. With the night pressing in, he was the only person who could make her feel safe. So far he’d protected her, and she knew he would keep protecting her as long as she needed it. She needed him, plain and simple, like she’d only ever needed her mother and John before this. They were a team, for better or worse.

  Sighing in resignation, she scooched closer. “No funny business,” she said softly, ducking into his outstretched arm.

  He drew her in immediately, dragging her up against his body. His arm held her tight, encouraging her head to find the hollow of his shoulder and her arm to drape across his chest.

  “Hook your leg between mine. I like that,” he whispered, his breath falling across her forehead.

  “We’re still just friends, though,” she whispered, her face heating with the memory of their kiss. “Or pack mates, if you don’t have female friends.”

  He laughed and squeezed her. “Nope. We are passive-aggressive acquaintances that spoon well together when shit goes sideways.”

  Laughing softly, she let herself relax and tried to ignore the softness that was working into her core. Affection wasn’t what he looked for in a girl. He wasn’t that kind of guy.

  Though it was really too bad. When he let himself thaw, he was funny, and witty, and loyal. She loved being with him, even when they were fighting. Maybe especially when they were fighting. At those times, the alpha in him exploded out, raw and wild. Uncontrollable. Untamable. If he was in any way similar in the bedroom, he’d be—

  She mentally slapped herself.

  “Why’d you jump?” he asked tiredly, turning and wrapping his arms around her. “I won’t let anything happen to you, Charity, I promise.” He kissed her forehead. “So long as you’ll come back and save me like last time.”

  She felt his chuckle through his hard chest and let herself melt into his body, feeling sleep tug at her. She ignored the other thing that was tugging at her, urging her to tilt up her face and taste him again. He’d been an excellent kisser, as good at that as he seemed to be at everything else. Including—

  She mentally knifed herself this time.

  “Shh, it’s okay. I’ve got you,” he said, his lips lingering on her cheek. His hardness pressing against her thigh. “Sorry,” he said sleepily, but he didn’t move away. She didn’t ask him to.

  She squeezed her eyes shut and breathed through her nose, trying desperately to ignore the raging fire that was threatening to consume her body and make her do something they’d both regret. Thank God her body couldn’t outwardly show what was going on internally. She didn’t want him to know how close she was to issuing a green light.

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Roger glanced up. He sat at the desk in his Brink home on the outskirts of town, half a country away from Santa Cruz. Soon he’d move to a remote location closer to Santa Cruz, but first he needed to get his affairs in order.

  Alder walked in holding a few fluttering pages in his clutched hand. His face was unusually grim, his heavy eyebrows low over his eyes.

  “What is it?” Roger asked.

  “Reports have come in about the possible Arcana.”

  “Possible… So it still has not been confirmed.”

  “No. There are no guarantees, though it seems like Vlad has no reservations.”

  It wasn’t like Vlad to engage in wishful thinking, but given the magical people that the other vampire Brink power player, Darius, had at his disposal, Vlad might be leaning a little too heavily on outlandish possibilities.

  Alder settled into a chair in front of the desk. Soft light filtered in through the many windows in Roger’s office, the trees outside swaying gently. Papers crinkled as Alder organized his thoughts. When he was ready, he gave Roger a steady, intelligent gaze. “How aware are you of the custodes’s practice of questing?”

  “You mean, when they come of age and power?”

  Alder nodded.

  “I know they do it. That’s about it.”

  “When they reach full power, the timing of which varies depending on the individual’s power level, a custodes—warrior fae—goes on a quest. This quest is self-defined and really could be anything. One person might stay in their home for a moon’s turn doing mind-altering drugs. Another might visit each part of the Realm for some purpose. They return, or go back to normal, when they feel they have completed their quest. Once a quest is completed, they are an adult by their reckoning.”

  “Sounds weak.”

  Alder huffed, as close to a laugh as he usually came. A shifter’s summons was an extremely dangerous affair, even with someone to guide the new shifter through their first change. Some were killed attempting to travel to the Realm, and of those who did get in, some lacked the magic to sustain their secondary form for any length of time. They were relegated to a mostly human life, cut off from the more magical members of their faction. Devon’s mother had had that affliction. It was why she’d given up on her background and married a non-magical human.

  It was also why she’d almost killed Devon. Until his first shift, he’d had no notion he was a shifter. A lesser wolf would’ve died. Devon had instead struggled through the summons, ventured into the Realm on his own, and somehow managed to show up at the castle. It had cemented his incredible potential.

  It had put him on Roger’s short list of shifters to watch closely.

  “Some have more extravagant quests than others,” Alder went on. “Regardless, the second Arcana, upon acquiring his full strength, had a dream that he should travel to the Brink and forge a bond linking the warrior fae and humanity. That was apparently it. Just link the two. Reports say that he had no idea how.”

  “Sounds pretty vague,” Roger agreed.

  Alder nodded, glancing down at his notes. “So he made the journey through the Realm, largely undisturbed as one of his magic and power level would be, and emerged somewhere near Chicago. There, reportedly, he met a woman, as a handsome man usually does.”

  “And seduced her, as a fae usually does,” Roger added. He already knew where this was going.

  “It’s said that he loved her greatly. He was apparently convinced that his quest was to sire a child of both bloodlines.”

  Roger shifted in his seat. “Sounds promising, but I have a hard time believing a fae, let alone an Arcana, would leave a child behind.”

  “Exactly. They wouldn’t. After six months or so, the woman still wasn’t pregnant. The Arcana, feeling the pull of home, decided he had misinterpreted his quest. He’d connected with a human, and that was his quest completed. Since he couldn’t take his love with him, he had to leave her behind.”

  “And she was pregnant?”

  Alder quirked an eyebrow. “That’s where it gets murky. Charity was born about ten months after he left, judging by the reports I have. Nine and a half months, to be precise. She delivered a day before her due date.”

  “So Charity couldn’t be his blood.”

  “Well, actually, from conception, the doctors count out forty weeks until birth, give or take. Ten months.”

  Roger sat forward. “So if he gave this woman a farewell lay, then it’s possible Charity could be his child.”

  “It’s possible.”

  “The reports you have can’t be all that exact. I wonder how many children were born within that time period, within that city.”

  Alder grinned, a disturbing sight. “Exactly, on both counts. The Arcana did send someone back to the Brink to make sure a child wasn’t formed from that union, and the scout found a run-down house with nobody in it. They searched for the woman in question
, but found nothing. Figuring they could sense their own kind, and didn’t, they went back to the Flush.”

  “So…”

  “Charity being this child is a shot in the dark. Although it’s said only an Arcana can bloom the sun in the darkness.”

  “I had no idea you were a poet,” Roger said dryly.

  “I have hidden talents.”

  “Apparently. Did you visit Charity’s parents’ house to ask questions?”

  Alder grinned again, this time with murder glinting in his eyes. “Of course. Found dear old Dad. He didn’t like the look of me. I narrowly dodged a shotgun blast.”

  “Ah. So we have no idea if this mysterious woman was Charity’s mother, and even if she was, we have no idea if the child is the powerful Arcana’s. Even if Charity is this child, she isn’t full fae. She’s a half-breed.”

  “Correct on all points.” Alder glanced at his notes again. “But fae scriptures say that a child born of a quest will flourish in power. That his or her power will easily rival an Arcana, if not more.”

  “If the Arcana’s quest was to sire a child at all.”

  “Yes, that’s still up in the air.”

  Roger stood and stared out the window. “What if she is this child? If she’s the missing link and the daughter of the Second, which still remains childless, last I heard.”

  “Then the Second will move the worlds to get her back. She is heir to the throne. More, she’s the product of a quest. Their magical juju people will want to consult with her, and then stars, and then tea leaves or whatever it is they rely on. The elves will want a piece, too, to bend her to their cause. Which is why the vampires—or at least one particular vampire—wants her.”

  Roger rubbed his eyes, suddenly exhausted. “What does Vlad know that we don’t? How is he so sure she’s Arcana? There’s no way he can effectively verify it until her blood is tested. And even then, he’d need a comparison with the Second. To wave a child at the warrior fae, claiming it’s theirs, would probably incite a war if he’s wrong.”

  “Here’s where it gets dicey.” Alder stared at Roger for a moment. “For you.”

  Roger steeled himself for the worst.

  “Needing more information, I consulted with Reagan Somerset. I hired her to question a lower-tier vampire that was in the know.”

  Reagan was a headcase with a strange magic, bonded to Darius, the other elder playing politics in the Brink. As a rule, Vlad and Darius circled each other. They didn’t cross lines, especially in regard to political pursuits. And as a rule, Reagan, magically bonded to Darius, didn’t take sides between them and the shifters.

  As a rule, Reagan made a huge mess out of any delicate situation she touched.

  “What’d she do?” Roger asked.

  “She accidentally killed the vampire. Well, actually, he was killed by the little mage she always drags with her, the one with the insane mother I quite like. Penny apparently cut off the vampire’s ability to change forms, not realizing Reagan had meant it as a bluff. Unlike with shifters, this killed the vampire.”

  Roger leaned back, surprised. “Is that right?”

  “Yes. She had to hide her involvement in this from Darius, so she incinerated the body. There will be no trace, but she made it very clear she intends to throw you under the bus if she gets in trouble.”

  Roger rubbed his temples. First Steve, and now this…

  “Anyway,” Alder went on, “she did discover that Vlad was immediately attracted by Charity’s magic, although he didn’t make the connection to the warrior fae at first. He had other things on his mind—his preparations for you, to be precise. Reagan mentioned that she was annoyed someone smelled better than she does. Penny rolled her eyes. I’m pretty sure that means Reagan was not serious.” He shook his head. “Given that Vlad is over a thousand years old, has certainly met warrior fae before, and likely seen the magic of an Arcana—as soon as he did make the connection…”

  Roger let a breath slowly trickle out. “Charity is legit. She’s warrior fae—possibly warrior fae royalty. She’s one of the most powerful fae in existence, she’s heir to the custodes throne, and she is in our protection.”

  “No one can be positive.”

  Roger laughed humorlessly. “Vlad is going to try to leverage help from the warrior fae by holding the child prisoner. What’s his overall plan, though? There is no way he’s going to try to out vampires in the human world. Last time that happened, most of them were hunted down and destroyed—and that was before modern weapons.”

  Alder tapped his notepad. “There’re rumors indicating the Realm is his target…and he may have some dangerous allies. It would be easier on the vampires if they didn’t have to follow the elves’ rules. It would be ideal for the demons if they didn’t have to remain banished to their pits. As you know, Lucifer has an appointment to visit the elf royalty. The popular rumor is that the elves called him in due to the increasing numbers of demons in the Brink.” Alder quirked a brow. “The whispered rumor is that Lucifer had something of a problem in the Underworld, and is now seeking out the cause. He’s searching for a particular type of magical…person. And possibly a vampire accomplice.”

  A strange unsettlement traveled through Roger. He was the alpha of an entire region, no small feat, but this news raised his small hairs. Something was coming. Something bigger than anything he’d ever experienced. And he knew he’d eventually be pulled into the heart of it.

  “All we have is rumors,” Alder said. “When I asked Reagan, she punched me in the face.”

  “She knows the details,” Roger said with certainty. “But that isn’t essential right now. We’ll circle back to it.” He blew out his breath. “Vlad’s leaked plans would explain the visit from Lycus and also all the newbie vamps that keep springing up. The vampires need bigger numbers to take on the elves. But no magical species has taken on that challenge and won.”

  “Lucifer has gotten close in the past. If he’d found a few more allies, and the elves hadn’t recruited a certain annoying breed of magical shifters, they might’ve overtaken the elves. The vampires weren’t the stars of that show, but Vlad was involved—or at least looking on. He’s gotten older and wiser since. He’s probably mapped out the weaknesses of everyone involved.”

  Roger nodded. “If there is a way, he’ll go for it. He was trying to up his numbers when he stumbled upon Charity. Now he thinks he’s found his golden ticket. In the past, the warrior fae would never have fought against the elves. They were the elves’ prized army. But now, after keeping to themselves for so long…”

  “The elves would use Charity to bring the warrior fae to heel. The vampires would use her to bring them to their cause. Given how Devon’s pack have responded to having a warrior fae in their midst, I have to wonder if we’d follow those enchanting folk wherever they go.”

  “She is a turning point,” Roger whispered.

  “I’d like to get her in front of Karen, the little mage’s mom.”

  So would Roger. A Seer might shed some light on how important Charity’s role would be moving forward. Giving Reagan’s recent mess-up, Roger probably had the leverage to make that happen.

  “It certainly seems like Charity is the product of the quest,” Roger said, thinking of all the elements at play. “It doesn’t change the current situation, though.”

  “Right now we have Charity,” Alder said, his eyes gleaming. “We could harness her the same way. Make our own power play.”

  Roger leaned back in his seat, analyzing his right-hand man. They’d been through the wringer together, but they’d always guarded each other’s back. They approached every new challenge from the same moral foundation. Roger wondered if this would be a rare divergence.

  As if reading his thoughts, Alder said, “I’m just putting all our options on the table.”

  “We aren’t kidnappers or mercenaries,” Roger replied in a firm tone.

  Alder nodded, and Roger realized his old friend had been testing him. He’d wanted to ma
ke sure they were still on the same page. Power corrupted, but they had always kept each other balanced. It was good that they still could.

  “What now?” Alder asked.

  “Vlad is amassing troops. He’s pulling them in from everywhere.” Roger pushed himself to standing. “Devon is exceptional, but he’s not cut out for an elder with an army at his back.”

  “He survived two mid-level vamps on his own, killing one,” Alder said.

  Roger hid his smile. He prided himself on finding raw talent. Devon was no exception.

  “Even still,” Roger said. “Vlad is another ballgame altogether.”

  “Charity’s ballgame.”

  “We need to sneak her into the Realm, away from Vlad, and hide her for as long as possible so no one catches wind of where she is until we’re positive who she is.”

  “We need to talk to her mom. Which means we have to find her mom.”

  Roger checked the time on his phone. They needed to organize the extraction before Vlad had enough vamps to bust through Devon’s wards. The elder was keeping all his people clustered in groups, knowing it would take more organization on Roger’s end to take them down. Organizing to that level took time.

  Time they didn’t have.

  “Get someone else on the newbies. We need to get Devon’s pack ready to move her. I don’t want to break her away from them. They’re her family now. Hopefully.”

  Alder shook his head. “No need—Devon plans to take out the last three tonight. He’s shown himself extremely capable in pressurized situations. I think it’s time to move him and his pack up a level.”

  “Are you sure? He didn’t mention this to me.”

  “I talked with him not long before coming here. He was about to leave Rod’s house to transport Charity to the safety of his much stronger ward. He has the last three newbies in his sights and is already working on a plan with his pack. He thinks one night will be more than enough. New vampires no longer pose a threat to his people.”